


Treading Water

by smarshtastic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, M/M, Pining, Shower Sex, Surprise Kissing, Swimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:29:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9882755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarshtastic/pseuds/smarshtastic
Summary: Jesse coughs himself back to consciousness, curling up onto his side as the water he swallowed comes back up. His chest aches and his head is spinning and he can't quite get his eyes to focus right. He sees several pairs of dripping boots and someone's got their face close to his own. They're haloed by the lights over the pool so Jesse can't quite see who it is. Jesse blinks. It's Commander Reyes.---Jesse's fear of water means he never learned to swim. Gabriel Reyes is determined to fix that.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/gifts).



> BEHOLD: the perpetually encouraging, totally helpful, very thorough, and absolutely best beta ever [fabrega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/) ~~even though sometimes Sad Headcanon Hour takes over~~. And, hey! Look! I brought my own OCs to the party so I'm not constantly beating up fabrega's!
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://wictorwictor.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/smarshtastic). Come ask me about why I think Jesse McCree would have had a crush on Dwayne the Rock Johnson.

Jesse stands at the edge of the pool in his training fatigues, eyeing the water warily. His arms are clasped behind his back, at attention, waiting. The dread is curling in his stomach, making the bile rise in his throat. He's making himself breathe through his nose in a poor attempt to keep his heart rate down. 

“There's a mannequin in the bottom of the pool for each of you to simulate a fallen teammate. Haul it up and start treading,” Commander Reyes says from where he's standing on the other edge of the pool. Jesse sneaks a glance at his teammates; none of them blink twice. Valdez even looks bored. Reyes puts a whistle between his lips and blows. The rest of the squad jumps into the pool without a second thought. 

Jesse goes in last, hesitating at the last moment so that the toe of his boot catches the edge of the pool, sending him sprawling inelegantly into the water. Water goes up his nose immediately. He tries not to panic, keeping his mouth pressed firmly closed. He can't fail. He can't fail. He's so close to doing something right for once -  _ he can't fail _ . He kicks his legs and moves his arms, but the water’s seeped into his boots and fatigues already, weighing him down. He's sinking rapidly, but at least that takes him closer to where he needs to be. He pries open his eyes to look for the mannequin. The chlorine burns and he's farther away than he thought. His lungs are already aching for breath. It's claustrophobic, and the pressure is throbbing in his ears. He kicks and flails again, trying to get closer. He's not going to make it. His heart is pounding in his chest, blood rushing to his head for a lack of oxygen and mounting embarrassment. 

The lace on his boot catches on something. Jesse twists, trying to get a look - it must be caught on the mannequin - he can't shake it loose. He struggles, but he's rapidly losing air. He makes the mistake of opening his mouth and swallows a lung full of water. The edges of his vision start to blur and go dark. He doesn't know which way is up. Jesse splutters and struggles and he realizes that he's going to die in a pool during a training exercise and at least he’ll be dead so that he won't have to face -

A hand wraps around his wrist, an arm around his waist, and suddenly he's being pulled out of the water. He feels the air hit his face. He's vaguely aware of his head hitting the pool deck slightly too hard. He still can't breathe. A hand strikes his chest and then someone is pressing their mouth against his -

Jesse coughs himself back to consciousness, curling up onto his side as the water he swallowed comes back up. His chest aches and his head is spinning and he can't quite get his eyes to focus right. He sees several pairs of dripping boots and someone's got their face close to his own. They're haloed by the lights over the pool so Jesse can't quite see who it is. Jesse blinks. It's Commander Reyes. 

“McCree? You with me?” Commander Reyes asks, brow furrowed. He's dripping on Jesse, wet curls plastered to his forehead. Jesse groans and coughs again, more water coming up. He half-wishes that the commander had just let him drown, rather than subject him to this. Commander Reyes thumps his shoulder. “Get it all up. There you go.”

Jesse would definitely rather be dead. 

Commander Reyes stands and dismisses the others, promising that they're not off the hook. Jesse watches the boots shuffle away, doing his best not to move. If he lies still long enough, maybe the ground will open up and swallow him, put him out of his misery. 

“McCree?” Commander Reyes asks. Jesse makes a wheezing, wet noise. Reyes crouches down next to him. He's dripping on the deck, seemingly unbothered by the way his wet training uniform clings to his body. Jesse tries not to look at him. “Do I have to get you to Angela?”

“No sir,” Jesse manages to choke out. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, arms shaking. Commander Reyes slips a hand over Jesse’s back, steadying him. 

“Your file didn't mention that you don't know how to swim,” Commander Reyes says. Jesse can't bear to meet his eyes and he can't tell from Reyes’ tone if he's mad or disappointed or amused or  _ what _ . “How’d you skate by all this time?”

“Nobody asked,” Jesse mumbles. He coughs violently, his lungs still trying to get water out of his system. Reyes’ hand hasn't left his back - it's rubbing a little circle between his shoulder blades. Jesse wonders if a lightning strike could make it through the roof and put an end to this whole experience. 

“We're gonna have to fix that, you know,” Commander Reyes says. Jesse finally makes himself look up at him. His expression is, as usual, unreadable, with the exception of a small line between his brows. Jesse’s cheeks redden again; if the water didn't kill him, the embarrassment surely will. 

“Yes sir.”

“We’ll get you swimming circles around everyone else. Just you wait.”

=-=-=

Commander Reyes starts setting aside some time in the evenings after hours, mandating pool training for Jesse. Jesse seriously considers drowning himself in the showers first, before subjecting himself to the continued embarrassment of flailing in the water in front of his commander. Instead, he summons enough wherewithal to face these sessions down with the courage of a condemned man. He stands in his fatigues far away from the edge of the pool, trying not to look at the water. Commander Reyes strolls in right on time. 

“What are you wearing?” he asks. Jesse’s head snaps around to look at his commander, and boggles as he realizes that Reyes is wearing tight black trunks.  _ Great _ , Jesse thinks. This is really going to make this much harder than it has to be. 

“Uh - fatigues, sir,” Jesse says finally, faltering, after too long of a pause. Reyes rubs a hand over his face. 

“Get those off. You're gonna sink otherwise.”

Jesse hesitates. Reyes raises an eyebrow at him. 

“I don't have a -” Jesse gestures vaguely at Reyes’ trunks. He thinks he sees a Blackwatch insignia on them, but he's trying really hard not to look too closely. “Swimsuit.”

“Underwear works just as well. Come on, you're still gonna have to be up in the morning to run with the rest of them.”

Jesse mentally thanks his past self for putting on underwear that morning. He half turns away from Reyes as he shimmies out of his fatigues, leaving them in a messy pile on the pool deck with his boots and socks. He feels oddly exposed when he turns back around. 

“Into the pool,” Reyes says, jerking his head toward the water. Jesse hesitates then starts to the edge. Reyes puts out a hand. “Not there - here. You can stand at this end.”

Reyes slips over the edge of the pool and into the water. Jesse watches warily until he comes back up, hair plastered to his head, apparently standing in the water. 

“Come on, McCree,” he says. “I'm not gonna bite.”

Jesse comes around the side of the pool and sits on the edge, easing himself into the water. He doesn't go under like Reyes did, and he doesn't let go of the side even when his feet hit the bottom of the pool. He can feel Reyes’ eyes on him and he's trying not to make eye contact. This is bad enough. 

“Can you float?” Reyes asks. 

“I dunno if you noticed, sir, but I kinda sink like a rock,” Jesse says. He's trying to keep his tone light through his clenched jaw. He's still got a death grip on the side of the pool. 

“Then you've gotta learn to float,” Reyes says. At least he's not making fun of him, yet. “Watch me - you have to lie back, arch your back a little bit, and let the water hold you up. If you're ever stranded in some body of water, floating can help you conserve some stamina.”

Reyes lies back, his body skimming across the top of the water effortlessly. Jesse tries not to stare. He makes it look so easy. After a moment, Reyes rights himself. 

“Your turn. Lie back, I've got you,” Reyes says. Jesse hesitates. “You have to let go of the edge.”

“I know,” Jesse says, making a face. 

“There's no sharks in the pool,” Reyes says, tone light. 

“It might be better if there was,” Jesse says darkly. He lets go of the edge and eases himself towards Reyes. “Maybe it'd eat me.”

Reyes lets out a little chuckle. “I'm not letting you take the easy way out. Come on - lie back.”

Jesse sucks in a deep breath and tries it. He sinks almost immediately. Before Jesse has time to panic, Reyes’ hands slide under his back, forcing him back to the surface. 

“Chest up, McCree,” Reyes says. “You have to let your ears go under too. Everything in line with the top of the water.”

Reyes keeps his hands under Jesse’s back as he tries to adjust his limbs. He doesn't really want to put his ears under the water - the way that the water is coming up on his cheeks is just a bit too close for comfort. He focuses instead on the firm palm pressing against the small of his back. 

“Spread your arms a little. Head back - further than that.”

“I can't -”

“I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere,” Reyes says. “Head back.”

Jesse screws up his face and lets his head tip back. The water fills up his ears and Jesse can't suppress the shudder that runs down his spine. Everything goes muffled. It feels claustrophobic. 

Reyes moves his hands under the water, one hand flattening between Jesse’s shoulder blades, the other cupping the back of his head. Jesse squeezes his eyes more tightly shut. This all feels awfully intimate and Jesse can't shake the feeling. The desperate crush he's been harboring on his commander is not going to go away any time soon - all signs point to it getting even  _ worse _ , as if that were somehow possible. 

Jesse struggles to stay afloat, arms flailing a little. He starts to sink, his head dipping below the surface. The panic swells immediately. Jesse kicks all his limbs, trying to get himself back on his feet. Reyes hauls him upright. 

“Take it easy, McCree,” he says, brow furrowed in concern. “I'm not gonna let you drown.”

Jesse feels his cheeks go hot and he ducks his head, taking a half step backwards so he can grab the edge of the pool again. 

“I know. Sorry,” Jesse mumbles. He's avoiding looking at Reyes even though he knows that his commander is staring at him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Reyes asks after a very long pause. Jesse shakes his head vigorously. 

“No. No - I can do this,” Jesse says quickly, head snapping up to meet Reyes’ eyes with a determined look. Reyes nods. 

“Alright. Again, then - lie back.”

Jesse takes a deep breath and does as he's told. Reyes slips his hands under his shoulders again, holding him up while he convinces himself to lean his head all the way back. As the water fills his ears, Reyes moves a hand under his head, fingers moving lightly through Jesse’s hair. He shivers, though it's certainly not fear that makes him react this time. He squeezes his eyes closed and tries to focus on his breathing instead. 

They spend almost two hours in the pool. By the end of it, Jesse can float by himself for a little bit before he starts to lose it and panic. Reyes is always there to catch him, his hands strong and steady and reassuring. He doesn't make a single snide comment the entire time he's teaching Jesse. 

“You did good, McCree,” Reyes says as they climb out of the pool. Jesse looks at him sideways, skeptical, but Reyes offers him a rare, small smile. Jesse’s exhausted - physically and mentally spent - but he perks up at the look. 

“I didn't drown,” he agrees. Reyes ducks his head with a little shake. 

“You made a lot of progress,” Reyes says. “Get cleaned up and get some rest.”

“Yes sir,” Jesse says, scrambling to his feet, wobbly and dripping wet. He hesitates a moment. “And - well. Thank you.”

Reyes looks back at Jesse, but he can't figure out what that look is in his eyes. “Any time, McCree. Good night.”

=-=-=

That night, Jesse dreams of water closing over his head, filling his nose and lungs, pushing the air out of his mouth, making his vision go dark around the edges as he struggles to draw breath. He’s on the brink of death when, suddenly, a hand pulls him up out of the water and he sees Commander Reyes over him, pulling him in close, kissing him deeply. 

Jesse wakes with a gasp, chest heaving. It felt real. When he regains his breath, he tugs the blankets over his head and tries to remember what Reyes’ mouth felt like on his own. 

=-=-=

“Tacky said you and the commander booked the pool for a private session last night,” Wake Newton says, plopping her tray down unceremoniously across from Jesse’s and flopping into a seat. Her twin brother Tack - older by about seventeen minutes - slides into a seat next to her, much less boisterous than his younger sister. They were a true yin and yang pair; almost complete opposites, but perfect complements, Tack and Wake Newton had helped Jesse pass his pilot qualifications a few years back when he first joined Blackwatch. The twins came out of the US military’s space fleet and were some of the best test pilots the military had ever seen. Now they were running stealth missions for Blackwatch. It takes all types, Jesse had learned. 

“Shiga tipped me off,” Tack says mildly. “He said you skipped watching  _ Dog Cops  _ with him.”

Jesse grimaces. He did feel bad about that, but it seemed at the time - and still does - more important not to let his commander down.

“He always records it,” he says, hunching over his tray a little. Wake glances at her brother, wild curls bobbing with the movement. 

“So what were you doing in the pool? With the commander?” Wake presses, wiggling her eyebrows a little. 

“Wake,” Tack shakes his head, spooning eggs onto a piece of toast. 

“Well! It's weird. Reyes doesn't  _ do _ things like that,” she says. 

“Jesse doesn't want to talk about it,” Tack says. Wake’s head swivels back around to look at Jesse again. She squints at him a little, perplexed. She's never been good at social cues but Tack has gotten used to translating for her. 

“Why not?”

“ _ Wake _ .”

“Is this one of those personal things?” Wake frowns. Jesse heaves a sigh and pushes his tray away from him. He's suddenly not very hungry. 

“Swimming lessons. He was giving me swimming lessons,” Jesse says. Wake blinks. 

“You can't swim? But everyone knows how to swim,” she says. Tack elbows her. She winces. “Sorry. I always forget you're not military, Jesse. Didn't you have to pass a test here or something?”

“They brought me in kinda under some unconventional circumstances,” Jesse says. He starts tearing up his napkin. “And nobody asked.”

“Huh,” Wake says thoughtfully. “Well, Reyes is good in the pool. Plus he's got these tiny shorts -”

“Wake!”

“Tacky!”

“Stop, you're making Jesse uncomfortable,” Tack says, nodding to the pile of napkin confetti on the table. Wake glances at the pile, brow furrowing. 

“What! He  _ does _ ,” Wake says. “Really tiny. Clings to all the right bits.”

“I know. I saw them,” Jesse says, grimacing. Wake lights up, leaning in conspiratorially. 

“Aren't they great? Hey, maybe I can join in for some lessons -”

“You know how to swim, Wakey,” Tack says, handing Jesse another napkin. 

“I just want another look at those shorts,” Wake says, expression going dreamy. 

“They are pretty good,” Jesse admits. Wake grins at him. 

“You know, all that one on one time…” she starts to say. 

“There's rules about fraternization,” Tack interrupts. Wake sticks out her tongue. 

“Don't be a stick in the mud. There's rules about everything, and Blackwatch follows like, maybe three of them.”

“He's our  _ commander _ .”

“Commanders have needs!” she says. “And Jesse does too, I bet. They'd make a pretty pair. Very aesthetically pleasing, you know?”

“Stop imposing your fantasies on your friends,” Tack says, giving Jesse an apologetic look. Jesse waves it off. 

“It's fine,” he says. He means it; he's sort of always appreciated Wake’s unfiltered commentary. Tack nods a little, finishing off his toast. 

“The commander is a pretty good looking guy, I have to admit. I could see how the shorts would be distracting,” Tack says diplomatically. Wake giggles. 

“You're never gonna learn anything, are you, Jesse?”

Jesse grimaces again, scrunching his whole face up. He was nursing the same worry. 

“Well, maybe he'll just let me drown and put me outta my misery,” Jesse says. 

“Nah, I bet he'd give you mouth-to-mouth if he had to. Maybe if he didn't have to, even,” Wake says with a wink. Jesse feels the color rise to his cheeks. Obviously the details of the training exercise hadn't made the rounds among the Blackwatch ranks yet, otherwise they'd have jumped all over the opportunity to tease him. He mentally thanks his squad mates for being discreet for once. Wake laughs delightedly. “You'd like it! Tacky, look at him, he's gone all pink.”

Jesse isn't sure, exactly, how he's going to make it through any more swimming lessons with all these thoughts buzzing around in his head. 

=-=-=

Jesse heads to the pool later that evening, after spending all day dwelling on the lesson from the night before, and the Newton twins’ gentle ribbing from that morning. Mostly, though, he's wary, still nervous. It’s not that he doesn’t trust his commander - that's never in question - it’s that it’s going to take more than a couple of hours in the pool to cure him of his fear of water. That fear is pretty much overriding any other emotion he might be experiencing at the moment. He fidgets a good distance from the edge of the pool as he waits for Reyes to show up. 

“McCree - catch,” Reyes says by way of announcing his presence. Something is flying towards Jesse’s head and he catches it before it hits him in the face; it takes him a moment to realize it's a pair of swimming trunks not unlike Reyes’ own, complete with Blackwatch logo on the hip. Somehow, this is worse than swimming in his underwear. “Get changed. I'll meet you back here.”

Jesse hesitates for a moment, unsure of himself, then goes for the button on his pants. Reyes blinks. 

“Not here - Jesus. Locker room, McCree. I’ll be out here.”

Relieved, Jesse moves off to the locker room, clutching the shorts in his hands and, honestly, they feel  _ tiny _ and this can't be right. He wiggles out of his training fatigues and pulls on the shorts. Before he heads back out to the pool, Jesse spares a glance at one of the full length mirrors near the exit. The shorts leave next to nothing to the imagination, a quality he had appreciated when he was admiring Reyes’ shorts, but now that he was wearing them himself - well. Jesse was feeling more than a little exposed. He adjusts himself self-consciously. It doesn't really make it any better. 

“You get lost in there?” Reyes asks when Jesse finally comes back out of the locker room. His eyes stay on Jesse’s and Jesse feels the warmth in his face as he shakes his head. 

“No sir.”

“Alright, hop in.”

Jesse eases himself into the water as Reyes neatly dives into the deep end and swims the length of the pool back to Jesse. He hasn’t managed to let go of the edge by the time Reyes resurfaces. 

“Show me what you learned yesterday,” Reyes says, shaking some water out of his eyes. He probably doesn't intend for it to look like something out of one of those old  _ Baywatch  _ movies that Jesse used to watch on the staticky motel TVs, but it still makes Jesse stare. Jesse drags his eyes away from his commander, collecting himself for a moment. He takes a deep breath before he lets himself lean back into the water. He squeezes his eyes shut tight as the water creeps up the side of his face, fills his ears. The claustrophobic feeling returns, but Jesse pushes it down, trying to focus on something nice instead of the panicked thoughts that threaten to break through. He keeps coming back to that image of Reyes, hair wet, water dripping down his neck and bare shoulders… Jesse spreads his arms out, letting his legs dangle, pressing his chest up toward the ceiling. He holds his breath, and he floats. For a moment, it's almost peaceful. 

Reyes’ hands skate under his back, pushing him back up to the surface. The delicate touch startles Jesse and he flails a little, but Reyes catches him, steadies him, one arm around his waist. Jesse’s breath catches in his throat for an entirely different reason. He puts a hand on Reyes’ chest, ostensibly to regain his balance. Reyes doesn’t seem to mind; he doesn’t move. 

“That was good, McCree,” Reyes says with a pleased nod. Jesse pushes some of his wet hair out of his eyes with his other hand. 

“Yeah?”

“Just have to work on getting you more comfortable,” Reyes says. He lets go of Jesse and moves away. Jesse scrunches up his face - he's pretty sure he'd be more comfortable if he wasn't forced to be in the water, vulnerable and nearly naked in front of his equally nearly naked commander. But - if Jesse is being honest with himself - the lack of clothes is, at least, a nice distraction. He tries to push the creeping bad thoughts back down and focus on that. His face must be doing something, though, because Reyes’ expression goes softer, concerned. “McCree?”

“It's fine, sir,” Jesse says quickly, sharper than he means to. Reyes looks at him for a long moment then nods. 

“Let's get you moving. Can you doggy paddle?” he asks. Jesse gives Reyes an unamused look. Reyes puts his hands up. “Honest question - not trying to poke fun.”

“I dunno,” Jesse says reluctantly. Reyes nods thoughtfully. 

“Let's start with arm movements, then. Like this,” Reyes demonstrates, and, to his credit, he doesn't look completely ridiculous. Jesse wonders, not for the first time, why Reyes is taking this whole thing so seriously. 

The next hour and a half is spent thrashing in the water as Reyes tries to teach Jesse the right way to move his arms, then his legs. In spite of Reyes’ reassuring touches and corrections, Jesse keeps getting more and more frustrated. He’s tired, he’s sore, and he keeps getting water in his nose. The next time he slips under the water, he loses his nerve. 

“I’m done,” Jesse snaps. He wades to the edge of the pool to scramble out of the water as quickly as he can. Reyes is faster in the water than Jesse - he grabs Jesse’s arm before he can climb out of the pool. Jesse wrenches away. “Leave me alone! I can’t do this any more.”

“McCree -”

Jesse hauls himself out of the pool. Reyes doesn’t grab him this time and Jesse is able to get far enough away from the edge of the pool so he can put his back against the wall and curl his legs into his chest. He presses his face to his knees, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths. His heart is racing and his throat feels tight. Blood rushes in his ears. It sounds like the water and he wants to blot out the noise. 

It’s too much. It’s too much and he’s failed. 

Jesse isn’t sure how long he sits there, hunched over into his knees. At some point, Reyes had gotten out of the water. When Jesse finally, finally peeks over his knees, he sees Reyes crouching an arm’s length away. Reyes meets his eye briefly, but doesn’t move. Jesse presses his face back down into his knees. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. Reyes still doesn’t move. 

“It’s fine.”

“No, it ain’t.”

There’s a pause. “You’re right.”

Silence stretches between them. Finally, Jesse lets a breath out but keeps his head down as he starts talking. 

“They threw me in the river when I was a kid,” he says, keeping his voice low and quiet. “Deadlock, I mean. I think they thought it was a joke or something but - I nearly drowned. Current pulled me under. Guess someone pulled me out. And then - ‘cause I couldn’t swim - they’d use it against me. I mean, they used it against a lot of people, but you know all that shit already. But with me - I dunno. It was personal, I guess. They’d... Toss me in the river when I fucked up, or hold my head in a bucket, or - or -”

Jesse sucks in a shaky breath and dares to peek between his knees at Reyes. The commander’s expression is mostly unreadable, save for a deep line between his eyebrows. Jesse exhales carefully as he straightens, leaning his head back against the wall. He keeps his eyes on Reyes’ face, almost silently challenging him to say something. But he doesn’t. Jesse would give his left arm to know what he was thinking. It’s another few long moments before either of them move. Reyes stands. 

“Come back tomorrow night, then,” Reyes says. Jesse blinks up at him. “We’ll keep working on it.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow. Get some rest.”

Jesse keeps blinking dumbly even as Reyes leaves the pool. He sits until he starts to get cold, then gets up, dragging a hand over his face before he trudges back to his room. 

=-=-=

The next night, Reyes is already there when Jesse shows up. They pick up right where they left off. Reyes doesn’t mention anything about Jesse’s outburst the night before. They meet the next night, and the next, and every night over the next several weeks. Reyes keeps patiently going through the motions, patiently teaching Jesse everything he needs to know to survive in the water, patiently enduring Jesse’s frustrations and fear. Eventually, Jesse trusts that Reyes won’t let him drown. Eventually, Jesse doesn’t have a panic attack every time his head goes under the water. 

Spending time alone with Reyes becomes enough of a motivation to keep Jesse going, even when he's tired and sore and scared. The light touches, words of encouragement - Jesse is greedy enough to keep coming back for more. 

He isn't sure if he's imagining it, but sometimes Reyes’ hands linger on him longer than they need to. Sometimes, Reyes pulls him in, hands on Jesse’s hips, practically cradling Jesse in his arms. It's all Jesse can do to keep from leaning back into his arms, stealing a kiss that's surely unwelcome. Jesse tries to separate his crush from the task at hand, with varying success. Some nights he's weaker than others. 

If Reyes notices, he doesn't say anything. 

Learning to swim is a slow, agonizing enough process that is interrupted by Blackwatch’s irregular schedule. They go on a handful of longer missions that cut into pool time, but on the days where their schedule is clear or they haven't just come back from a grueling assignment, Jesse’s tablet pings with an evening appointment reminder. Jesse doesn’t even realize how far he’s come until Reyes stops him mid-lap one night several weeks after this whole experiment started. 

“I think you should try getting the mannequin out of the water again,” Reyes says as Jesse treads water. Jesse’s legs lose their rhythm. He starts to sink before he catches himself. 

“I don’t know -” Jesse starts to say but Reyes is already pushing himself out of the pool, water running down his shoulders. Jesse can’t help but admire the sight, even as the anxiety starts to seep in again. He swims to the shallow end of the pool. He grabs the edge of the pool deck to ground himself as he takes a couple deep breaths. 

Reyes comes back with the mannequin slung over his shoulder. Jesse is scrappier than he is strong even though he's getting stronger all the time, and Reyes always makes feats of strength look enviably easy. He follows Reyes with his eyes, watching the way his muscles move as he tosses the mannequin in the deep end. Reyes catches Jesse’s look. The corner of his mouth twitches up. 

“You ready to try?”

Jesse feels his heart rate pick up, though he's not sure if it's due to that little smile or the anxiety building in his chest. “Not really.”

Reyes rolls his eyes and slips into the water. Jesse watches him move through the water until he pops up next to him. Somehow Reyes makes moving in the water look entirely more natural than anything Jesse can ever hope to accomplish. 

“I’ll be right with you the whole time, McCree,” Reyes says, shaking water out of his eyes. “You’re going to have to do it eventually.”

Jesse takes a deep breath, looking past Reyes to the deep end of the pool. He can't make out the mannequin under the surface. His eyes go unfocused, expression going distant. He doesn’t realize how long he’s been quiet until - 

“McCree?”

“Yeah. Alright.”

Reyes has him start from the deck, toes on the edge. Jesse hesitates. 

“You can't hesitate,” Reyes says, his tone firm, though there's no bite to it. “That's a teammate down there.”

Jesse sucks in a lungful of air and plunges into the water. It goes up his nose but he persists, ignoring the part of his brain that wants to panic. He kicks his legs and pries open his eyes to look for the mannequin. It's farther than he hoped. He kicks again, reaching out to grab the mannequin by the arm. It's heavier than he thought it would be and the initial tug drives a fair amount of air out of his mouth. Jesse squeezes his eyes closed and tries to find enough leverage to push off the bottom of the pool. His lungs are burning. His bare feet slide off the bottom of the pool without giving him enough purchase. He tries again, putting more force behind it. That works better; Jesse tilts his head up towards the lights reflecting on the surface of the water. 

Jesse’s head breaks the surface of the pool and he gasps for breath. He hauls the mannequin closer to his body, trying to keep his head above the water as he treads in place. His grip slips on the mannequin and it sinks back to the bottom. It takes him a moment to find Reyes; he's sitting on the edge of the pool, leaning forward with his legs dangling in the water, a small smile playing around his lips. 

“Not bad,” Reyes says. “Let's do it again.”

To Jesse’s dismay, they spend the rest of the night retrieving the mannequin from the bottom of the pool. His whole body aches more than usual, his lungs tired from trying to hold onto what little oxygen they've been allowed. 

It ends in disaster: Jesse is too tired to keep diving and starving himself of air, but is too stubborn to say anything. Again, he jumps in at Reyes’ command - more confident now, the movement practically rote - but water goes up his nose and fills his mouth. He coughs underwater, breathing in. His eye fly open as panic wells up. He can't tell what's up or down, where he can find safety. 

Reyes pulls him out, hauls him onto the pool deck, thumps his back to get him breathing again. Jesse coughs and splutters. Reyes slips his hand under Jesse’s chin, tilting his head up to look at him. Jesse’s eyes are watering. 

“You okay?” Reyes asks. Jesse coughs again, but Reyes doesn't flinch away. His thumb runs along Jesse’s jaw lightly. Jesse freezes, eyes widening slightly. 

“Fine,” Jesse manages to choke out. Reyes scans his face then nods. He drops his hand from Jesse’s chin. Jesse mourns the loss; Reyes’ touch was comforting, grounding. 

“Wear your training fatigues tomorrow,” Reyes says finally. “We'll keep working on it.”

Jesse moves slowly, still coughing as he makes his way to the locker room. His chest aches and the thought of wearing his fatigues in the pool again tomorrow is making his gut twist in anticipation. He doesn't sleep well that night; tossing and turning in between flashes of dreams of Reyes pulling him out of the water, sometimes just in time, sometimes too late. 

The day is spent gathering details for Blackwatch’s next assignment. Jesse’s distant and distracted most of the day. He gets almost no work done. Shiga tries to get his attention during lunch. 

“Earth to McCree,” Shiga says, leaning across the cafeteria table and waving a hand in front of his face. Jesse blinks, his fork halfway to his mouth. He sets it down. The food’s been sticking in his throat anyway. 

“Sorry,” Jesse says. He rubs a hand over his face. Shiga’s looking at him sympathetically. 

“Didn't sleep well?”

“Nah,” Jesse says. 

“Nightmares again?” 

Jesse pauses before answering. “Not exactly.”

“What's going on?” Shiga asks. “You look beat.”

“Just swimming lessons,” Jesse says, keeping his voice low. He's still embarrassed about it, mostly, but Shiga was always kind to him. Jesse could trust him not to make fun. 

“Still?” Shiga says, cocking his head to the side. Jesse nods, going back to picking at his food. 

“Reyes is hell bent on turning me into a dolphin or something,” Jesse says. Shiga snorts. 

“He probably just likes seeing you in the Blackwatch issue trunks,” Shiga says, leaning in again, winking. He knows all too well about Jesse’s unending crush on Reyes, and never misses an opportunity to tease Jesse about it. Jesse splutters. 

“Definitely  _ not _ ,” Jesse says, color rising to his face. Shiga grins but sits back in his seat. 

“Well at least you get to enjoy the view, then,” Shiga says with a nod. “There's perks to all that work, huh?”

“It's basically torture,” Jesse says. He pauses before adding, “Even if Reyes looks good in the trunks.”

Shiga laughs. “Are you gonna make a move?”

“I'm just trying not to drown, mostly,” Jesse says, shaking his head. “That's pretty much the farthest thing from my mind.”

Jesse was only being a little dishonest about that. Shiga gives Jesse a knowing look as he takes another bite of food, waggling his eyebrows at him. Jesse ducks his head and forces himself to take another few bites of food. In another few hours, he'd find himself at the bottom of the pool. His stomach lurches at the thought. Jesse pushes his tray away. Shiga reaches for his pudding. 

“Can I?”

“Go ahead,” Jesse says, waving a hand dismissively. Shiga peels back the foil eagerly. 

“You know, this could be the start of a beautiful thing,” Shiga says around his spoon. He’s got a shit-eating grin slowly spreading over his face. “You could really shake things up. It’s not like you haven’t been waiting  _ forever _ for a chance.”

Jesse groans and puts his head down on the cafeteria table. This isn’t helping. 

=-=-=

That night, Jesse shows up to the pool in his fatigues. He wasn’t able to stomach dinner with the way the anxiety was roiling in his gut. Reyes walks in, right on time, with the mannequin slung over his shoulder. He tosses it into the water and turns to face Jesse. 

“Are you ready for this?” he asks, looking at Jesse critically. He shifts under his gaze. 

“Yes sir,” Jesse says, raising his eyes to look at Reyes. His heart is already thumping and he’s having a hard time swallowing. Reyes’ eyes search his face. 

“I’ll be here the whole time,” Reyes says finally, tugging his shirt off over his head and dropping it to the pool deck. 

“I know,” Jesse says. He drags his eyes away from Reyes as his commander starts peeling off his pants. Instead, he makes himself focus on the water. He can’t quite make out the mannequin at the bottom - it’s nothing more than a shadow. Reyes sits on the edge of the pool, letting his bare legs dangle in the water. 

“Whenever you’re ready, then,” Reyes says. He leans back on his hands. Jesse can feel him looking at him. He should just get this over with; if he does well the first time, maybe Reyes won't make him do it again. 

Jesse draws in a deep breath. He plunges over the side of the pool. 

The water closes in around his head and he manages not to panic immediately. It's a familiar sensation now - even though it still feels far from comfortable. His fatigues billow out around him, making his arm movements harder. His legs feel heavier, the water seeping into his boots dragging him down. Jesse pries open his eyes to look for the mannequin; it’s close. With difficulty, he propels himself to it. His shirt keeps riding up over his face, making it hard to see, hard to let the air trickle out of his mouth. Jesse bats it away as he reaches for the mannequin. It's heavy, unwieldy. He manages to get a grip around the middle but his throat is burning. He tilts his head up - what he thinks is up - but he can't actually see the pool lights. His fatigues are in his face again. His ears are aching with the pressure. Jesse kicks off the bottom, but his grip slips and the mannequin sinks again. He lets out too much air in frustration. 

He's so close. He has to do this. 

Jesse reaches for the mannequin again, struggling as his head starts to spin for lack of oxygen. He hauls the mannequin up to his chest too hard - the impact of the mannequin drives the last dregs of the air out of his lungs. He gasps underwater, inhaling. Jesse flails, panic breaching the surface. He doesn't want to let go of the mannequin. 

He sinks. The edges of his vision are going dark. Jesse struggles against it, but his boots feel like concrete and his arms are too heavy to move. 

Reyes seizes Jesse around his waist and pulls his hands away from the mannequin, letting it fall back to the bottom of the pool. He drags Jesse up to the surface. Jesse hits the deck and Reyes leans over him immediately, face hovering above Jesse’s own. A hand thumps his chest and then Reyes is pressing his mouth to Jesse’s. Jesse automatically puckers his lips, turning the life saving gesture into a kiss. He feels Reyes start to pull away, but Jesse grabs his hand. Reyes freezes. 

“Wait,” Jesse rasps. He turns his head to cough a little before looking up at Reyes. He thinks, faintly, that he's never seen him look so taken aback before. 

“McCree? You, ah, hit your head?” Reyes asks carefully. Jesse shakes his head a little. 

“Swallowed some water maybe,” Jesse says. He coughs again. Reyes is still hovering over him, close. Jesse tries to pull him down. Reyes resists for a moment before he lets Jesse tug him down. 

“McCree…”

Jesse kisses him. Reyes melts into it, his mouth going soft and pliant against Jesse’s. It sends a little thrill down Jesse’s spine that makes him cough again. Reyes pulls away. 

“Sit up,” he says, slipping a hand under Jesse’s back to lever him up. Jesse hunches his shoulders and coughs. Reyes isn't saying anything and Jesse wonders how much he can blame on swallowing chlorine. It doesn't escape his notice that Reyes’ hand hasn't left his back. 

“Sorry,” Jesse says when he finally catches his breath. Reyes drops his hand from Jesse’s back. 

“No need to apologize,” Reyes says, voice low. Surprised, Jesse looks back up at him. Reyes’ face is unreadable. Jesse doesn't know  _ what _ to think. Reyes gestures to the pool. “Do you want to keep trying?”

Jesse’s heart sinks: Reyes is going to pretend that Jesse didn't kiss him, that nothing happened. Somehow, that stings more than outright rejection. Jesse shakes his head a little, turning to look back at the water so Reyes can't see him trying to school his face. 

“I dunno,” Jesse says after a long pause. He clears his throat again.  

“We can keep going without your fatigues. Until you're more comfortable.”

“Sure. Yeah. I'll change,” Jesse stands. His legs wobble a little and Reyes reaches up to steady him, a hand on his thigh. Jesse swallows. “I'll be right back.”

Jesse makes his way to the locker room as quickly as his shaky legs can take him. He sinks down onto a bench and drops his face into his hands. His chest is still aching - it still feels like there’s water in his lungs - but he’s burning up with embarrassment. He wonders if he can slink back to his quarters without Reyes noticing. No, he’s trapped; the locker room only opens up to the pool and he’d have to go right by him. Jesse lets out a small noise of frustration that turns into a cough. He can’t give up now. 

Finally, Jesse steels himself enough to get up again. He starts peeling his soaked fatigues off. It’s difficult; his hands are still shaking a little and the wet fabric is heavy and cumbersome. He manages to kick off his boots and wiggle out of his pants. Jesse drops everything on the bench but doesn’t go back out to the pool immediately. Instead, he takes a couple of steadying breaths to further steel himself. He can do this. Hell, he can face down the barrel of a gun without a second thought, but facing his commander after having the  _ audacity _ to kiss him feels like a different level of risk entirely. 

“McCree?”

Jesse’s chest seizes up as Reyes’ voice floats over to him. He half turns towards the sound, finding Reyes standing at the end of the bench. Whatever confidence Jesse had managed to summon in the last five minutes withers almost instantly. 

“We can be done for the night, if you’d rather,” Reyes says, his tone quiet and deliberate. His eyes are on Jesse, he’s probably seen how the wind has gone out of his sails. It sparks something almost resentful in Jesse’s stomach. He straightens. “Let you catch your breath.”

“I’m sorry I kissed you,” Jesse blurts out. He doesn’t know where it comes from. Neither of them say anything for a long time, the silence practically echoing on the locker room tile. Jesse somehow manages to hold Reyes’ gaze, as impenetrable as it is. 

“Forget it,” Reyes says, voice going gruff. He looks away first, and Jesse feels his heart fall somewhere around his toes. There's another long pause where Jesse feels like dying. Reyes still isn’t looking at him when he speaks again. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and we can be done for the night?”

“What if I don’t want to?” Jesse asks, suddenly emboldened. It’s like he reached a critical mass of embarrassment - how much lower could he get, really, half-drowned and standing in front of his commanding officer in his wet underwear? - and the old stubbornness has taken up primary residence again. 

It does get Reyes to look at him again. 

“We can keep going,” Reyes says finally, keeping his tone even and measured. 

“I didn’t mean swimming.”

“Jesse,” Reyes says. He never uses his first name. Jesse feels his heart fly to his throat. He nearly chokes on it. Instead, he swallows hard. 

“I shouldn’t have apologized,” Jesse says. “I meant it. The kiss, I mean.”

Another long pause. Jesse wonders if he’s finally managed to do something that breaks Reyes’ trust completely. Reyes hasn’t moved. Jesse takes a tentative step closer, slowly, carefully, doing his best not to startle him. Still, Reyes doesn’t move. It’s only a few small steps to close the space between them and Reyes doesn’t move the entire time. Jesse stops in front of him, their toes practically touching. He’s the same height as Reyes these days, he can look right into his eyes. Reyes doesn’t flinch. 

“I’d do it again too,” Jesse says, voice barely above a whisper. His heart is pounding in his throat - he’s sure Reyes can hear it. Reyes still hasn’t moved a muscle. 

“Do it then,” he says finally, challengingly. 

Jesse surges up, reaching with both hands to cup either side of Reyes’ face to bring him to his own. He presses his mouth to Reyes’, warm and soft, but with an edge of teeth. Reyes doesn’t resist - in fact, he goes willingly, pliant, his lips puckering against Jesse’s in reciprocation. 

“Oh,” Jesse breathes out against Reyes’ mouth as one of Reyes’ hands comes to rest on his hip. He feels Reyes clench up. “No, no, no - no. ‘Sokay -”

Jesse peppers kisses across Reyes’ lips, still not quite believing he’s letting him do this. Reyes relaxes into it again, kissing Jesse back when their lips meet just right. Every touch sends a pleased shiver down his spine and Jesse never wants it to stop. 

Reyes does stop him, after a fashion. He pulls away just enough to lean his forehead against Jesse’s. 

“Catch your breath, Jesse,” Reyes says. His other hand comes up to stroke a thumb along Jesse’s jaw. Jesse nuzzles into it, greedy for it. 

“‘M okay,” Jesse mumbles, even though his breath is coming shallow and fast. 

“You swallowed a lot of water,” Reyes says. Jesse makes a face. He opens his eyes in time to see Reyes looking at him with a softness in the eyes he hasn’t seen before. His mouth is even turned up at the corners; a certain warm feeling spreads from the tips of his fingers and down to his toes. 

“I’m okay,” Jesse says again. He squeezes Reyes’ shoulder. “Really.”

Reyes looks at him for a long moment and Jesse worries that he’s going to pull away. He doesn’t, though. He just turns his head a little and lets out a breath. 

“And this?”

“What about it?” Jesse asks. Reyes looks back at him. 

“Is this okay?” Reyes asks, fingers carding through the wet hair clinging to the back of Jesse’s neck. Jesse nods, trying to hide the shiver that goes down his spine again. 

“I wouldn’t’ve done it if I didn’t mean it,” Jesse says. Reyes lets out a little laugh, looking down. 

“Hell,” Reyes says. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Jesse asks. Reyes surprises him by leaning in first, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to Jesse’s lips. He can’t help the little noise that bubbles up - somewhere between an  _ oh _ and a moan. He clings to Reyes like a drowning man, inhaling each kiss like it could be his last. 

=-=-=

A few weeks later, Jesse stands on the edge of the pool in his fatigues. Reyes -  _ Gabe _ , as he's come to be in their private, after hours sessions - is already sitting with his legs dangling in the water. He leans back on his hands, eyes focused on Jesse. 

“You know the drill,” Gabe says. Jesse shuffles on the spot, scuffing the toe of his boots against the pool deck. His eyes are focused on the water, on the shadow of the mannequin at the bottom of the pool. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jesse says. He looks over at Gabe. 

“You just have to do it the one time,” Gabe says. “Then we can stop monopolizing the pool.”

“I was starting to enjoy it,” Jesse says, shifting his weight. 

“Starting to?” Gabe asks, playful indignation coming through his voice. Jesse flashes him a brief smile before he plunges into the pool. 

The water closes over his head. Jesse squeezes his eyes closed. He’s done this enough now that he knows how to keep the panic at bay, even though the water seeps into his fatigues and boots, weighing him down. He knows how to do this. He can’t let his mind get away from himself. 

Jesse kicks, angling himself downward, one arm reaching out. His fingers brush the bottom of the pool. He opens his eyes, ignoring the pressure bearing down on his eardrums. The mannequin is just a few feet away. Jesse gives himself another kick to propel him forward. He stretches out his arms and grabs the mannequin with both hands, hauling it close to his chest with some difficulty. He wraps his arms around its waist and pushes off the bottom of the pool with as much force as he can manage. 

His head breaks the surface of the pool and Jesse gasps for breath. He treads in place, getting his bearings, before he spots Gabe, leaning over his knees, smiling. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Gabe asks. Jesse, chest still aching and ears pounding, gives him a dirty look. 

“Are you gonna take this thing or not?”

“Bring it to the edge of the pool,” Gabe says, standing up, water running down his legs. Jesse propels himself to the edge of the pool with a great effort. His arms shake as he passes the mannequin up over the side and onto the deck, but he does it. Gabe offers down a hand and Jesse takes it gratefully as he hauls himself out of the pool. He sits with his legs sprawled out in front of him, dripping onto the deck. Gabe crouches next to him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Gabe shuffles Jesse into the locker room. His deft hands unbutton Jesse’s shirt and push it off his shoulders while Jesse struggles with his belt buckle. The adrenaline left him shaky, fumbling, but Gabe’s hands are steadying, calm. He pushes Jesse gently down to sit on the locker room bench and kneels in front of him. Jesse manages to toe off his boots by the time Gabe gets his belt unbuckled and his pants halfway down his legs. He kicks them away. 

Gabe slips a hand under Jesse’s chin and kisses him deeply. Jesse sighs into it, melting into Gabe’s touch. 

“You did it,” Gabe murmurs against Jesse’s lips. “Knew you could.”

Jesse tugs him in closer, trying to pull him down. Gabe drops one hand to the bench to hold himself up. 

“Easy,” Gabe says. 

“C’mon -” Jesse says. “I earned it.”

Gabe snorts, pulling away. “Shower, then. Up.”

Jesse follows Gabe into the showers. He’d always have followed Gabe to the ends of the earth, but now, knowing that Gabe would actually be by his side - it was something else entirely. 

Gabe turns the water on hot, filling the showers with a heady steam. Jesse hesitates a moment, fingers on the waistband of his underwear. He’s been naked in front of Gabe before, but this feels different, somehow. In the few weeks that have passed since Jesse first kissed Gabe, they’d been taking it slow, with constant reassurances; apparently, neither of them wanted to fuck this up. 

Gabe strips his swim trunks off first, hanging them from a hook on the outside of the stall. He looks back at Jesse as he steps into the stall. That look is all he needs. Jesse hurries to follow, nearly tipping over in his haste to get his wet underwear off. Gabe tugs him into the stall and presses him against the tile. Jesse goes easily. Gabe’s mouth is on Jesse’s immediately, kissing him hard as the water falls on their heads. Jesse is starved for breath in an entirely much more pleasant way by the time Gabe lets up. He presses his body against Gabe’s, sliding easily with the water between them. The feeling of slick skin on skin is intoxicating. 

“Is this okay?” Gabe asks, voice low and gravelly in his chest. Jesse presses up against him harder, so he can feel the shudder that runs through him. 

“Good. Real good,” Jesse says, tipping his head up to kiss him again. Gabe makes a pleased sound, kissing Jesse deeply before trailing his mouth down over his neck and collarbone. Jesse tips his head back against the tile, breathing in steam and exhaling in a soft moan. “Don’t stop.”

Gabe makes another low noise and turns Jesse around, so his chest is pressed against the side of the stall. His hands skate down Jesse’s shoulders to the curve of his lower back. Gabe’s hands stall there for a moment before running down the sides of Jesse’s ass. 

“Is this okay?” Gabe breathes against the nape of Jesse’s neck. Jesse shudders again, pressing his hands to the tile and canting his hips back. It’s a tease. 

“Yes,” Jesse gasps. Gabe settles one hand on Jesse’s hip while the other sneaks around to rest at the base of his stomach. His fingers brush through the dusting of hair that trails down from Jesse’s navel. Jesse swallows thickly. “You can - touch me?”

It comes out like a question, which Jesse didn’t mean. Gabe’s hand flattens against Jesse’s lower stomach. Jesse reaches down to touch his wrist. 

“Are you sure?”

“ _ Yes _ , don’t tease,” Jesse says, impatiently. Gabe moves his hand down to run his fingertips along Jesse’s dick. Jesse is already, almost embarrassingly, hard. Gabe circles Jesse’s dick with his fist and strokes him down. It draws a little whine from Jesse’s throat. He shifts his stance, allowing Gabe to plaster himself against Jesse’s back. His front is flush against Jesse’s back, his chin resting briefly on Jesse’s shoulder, looking down at his hand around Jesse’s dick. Jesse is suddenly very aware of Gabe’s own erection, pressing hot and thick against his ass. Jesse makes another noise. “Gabe -”

“Okay?” 

Jesse doesn’t bother answering this time. He reaches back and moves Gabe’s dick so it’s slotted between his cheeks, allowing Gabe to rut up against his ass. Jesse shifts his hips invitingly, which has the added benefit of thrusting into Gabe’s hand. 

“Unf - Jesse -” Gabe murmurs. His other hand skates around his hip and flattens against his sternum. He manages to pick up a steady rhythm, thrusting up against Jesse’s ass, driving him forward into his fist. Jesse drops his head back onto Gabe’s shoulder, mouth hanging open, and lets his eyes slide closed. Wrapped up in Gabe’s arms like this - Jesse couldn’t ask for much more. He moans Gabe’s name, increasingly louder, as his knees start shaking. He reaches back blindly, trying to grab Gabe’s hip again. Gabe bows his head, pressing kisses along Jesse’s exposed throat and up to his mouth, trying to stifle Jesse’s moans. “Shh - shh, I got you. I got you, Jesse.”

Jesse cries out, hips bucking up as he comes into Gabe’s fist. Gabe strokes him through it, still thrusting steadily against his ass. Jesse does his best to press back even though his legs are shaking. 

“Gabe, Gabe,” Jesse whines, fingers flexing against Gabe’s hip. He feels Gabe shudder behind him and then both hands are pulling him tight against his hips. Gabe lets out a soft moan when he comes with a warm splash on Jesse’s lower back. He slumps on Jesse’s shoulder, still holding both of them up. 

“Was - was that okay?” Gabe pants into Jesse’s ear. Jesse turns in his arms so that he can kiss him properly. It’s a little sloppy, open-mouthed, both of them trying to catch their breaths. 

“Yeah,” Jesse says finally. “Yeah, it was, Gabe.”

The corner of Gabe’s mouth twitches up. He pushes some wet hair off Jesse’s forehead. Jesse leans into the touch. 

“I should’ve just asked you to teach me mouth to mouth,” Jesse says. Gabe blinks then snorts. 

“You still need to know how to swim,” Gabe points out. Jesse kisses him, just because he knows he can. 

“We’d’ve gotten there eventually,” Jesse says. Gabe shakes his head a little. 

“You’re too easily distracted,” Gabe says, his tone light, fond. “It’s better this way.”

Jesse scrunches his face, but he knows Gabe’s right. He worked hard for this; it feels like he earned it. Gabe leans in and gives him a small, light peck. Jesse  _ earned _ that.

“Come on. Let’s get cleaned up before someone comes looking for us,” Gabe says. Jesse detangles himself from him reluctantly. Gabe’s hand lingers on his hip. 

“I guess swimming lessons are over, huh?” Jesse says, trying to keep his tone casual. Gabe looks at Jesse, cocking one eyebrow up. 

“I’m sure you have  other skills that need brushing up,” Gabe says. He reaches for the shampoo as a slow grin spreads over Jesse’s face. 

“You know what? I think you’re right.”


End file.
